The Talk
by Arien Halfelven
Summary: Hours before his performance, Yuri Plisetsky experiences a puberty crisis. Since it's as bad as it ever could be - why not ask Lilia? Perhaps a serious talk with his lady tutor would prepare Russian Kitten to be ready to... welcome the madness?


Thanks to Stokrot and Jo_Ra for beta-reading this mess for me!

And, well. Welcome to the… Puberty?

 **THE TALK**

"What if I'm gay?"

O, shit. Holy fucking shit. He actually said it aloud. Yuri Plisetsky wished he could run off right now and bang his head into the skating rink – straight into oblivion.

He said it. Aloud. And to Lilia Baranovskaya of all people. She raised her eyebrow on him, face indifferent – oh, to hell with all this shit. It couldn't get worse.

"What if I'm gay?" he asked again. Lilia's answering shrug was barely noticeable, but she sat right next to him and crossed her long legs.

"Oh, my", she said with her usual, crisp coldness, "so you will not become my pet lover to satisfy my inner cougar's lust for young meat. What a loss."

A joke – because it was a joke, that much he knew even in his jumbled state of mind – was so out of place, so unexpected, and yet here it was, served elegantly with this impressive, bitchy cool of Mistress Baranovskaya. For a second Yuri searched desperately for a proper reaction, because it just wouldn't do - even for the Golden Child Plisetsky - to laugh at bad jokes with Lilia Baranovskaya.

Then he'd given up and just laughed. For a moment. Another moment or five was a pure hysteria.

She didn't embrace him, nor patted his head, bless her. She just kept being there seemingly not noticing how he cringed half way into her lap. And if he cried some real tears and sobbed like some pathetic cub, she would never tell anyone.

She slapped his hand for wiping his face with his sleeve, though.

Yuri obediently blew his nose into Lilia's handkerchief. She nodded, as if approving.

"If you're gay, then you're gay. Sometimes it seems everybody around is gay. Just don't tell Nikiforov, he will be preening and swaggering on how his good influence shaped you up."

"I'm not even speaking with this stupid peacock!", Yuri vowed.

"Talk to Katsuki", she advised. "He must have gone through all the stages of… disclosing himself. He's the type to have doubts – and fight the doubts. And he won't tell a soul, if you terrorize him properly… Of if you ask him with big wet eyes to keep secret."

"I'll terrorize him", Yuri decided instantly. Only then he realized he actually agreed to talk to the Pork. Well, Katsuki really wouldn't tell a soul. Anyway, that gay thing was only half of the problem. Or a midway through the blasted sea of problems. Well, Lilia wouldn't leave until he would return her handkerchief.

He blew his nose again.

"What…" He drew a deep breath. "What if I'm not gay?"

Damned shitty sexuality. Who invented this whole mess anyway? Yuri hoped they died, preferably suffering something painful and veneric. Lilia raised both her eyebrows.

"Then you will need a younger pair of breasts to cram your nose into. Just don't tell Nikiforov, he might decide you've put yourself on the losing side and he'll make Giacometti try to seduce you and get you properly converted to homosexuality."

Yuri wondered whether he should be relived or offended with the indirect assumption that Victor himself wouldn't have a go at him. Screw the fucking Nikiforov.

"I'll avoid blasted Chris for some… Forever?"

"Or maybe you shouldn't?" She eyed Yuri calmly. "He's got an excellent opinion as a lover. All warm and joyful and caring, apparently. Last pair of girls I caught giggling about it… I think they called him "best shag-and-hug friend ever"?"

Yuri wanted to never know this.

Lilia shrugged.

"I made them go through twelve dozens of long training leaps for this debauchery." She squinted her eyes. "They still claimed it was worth it. So, about Giacometti, you better reconsider."

"But I… I'm…" he stammered, now seriously scared.

"Oh, yes. You're not gay. Probably." She looked into his eyes. "So, you will love girls, have a time of your life with them, maybe one day marry one…"

"And divorce her?", he snapped. Great move, of course. Now she would smash him and leave. But it really was a part of that damned sea of problems! It really was! Everybody around just kept flinging. And his real question under all the fucking gay/not gay pool was this: what if he would just want something… Something not endangered with instant splitting because of blasted fucking around! He might be gay. Or he might be straight. Either way Grandpa would make a giant fuss on the first mention of his Yuratchka having a sex-life. His lover's gender would be the last point on the list of his issues.

God bless Grandpa.

Sex-life could go to hell, God fuck it all.

Having sex made people… antsy. Well, afterwards. They couldn't look each other into eyes. They couldn't stand each other. They kept evading, slipping out. Then they would split and leave. And what if he didn't want to lose someone just because his damned body got some fucking urges out of nowhere?! For once in his life he just wanted to keep someone like – forever? Why did one have to be gay, or not gay? Despite all the shit Victor used to say, any of this never improved any skating skills. Why would he have to engage into some blasted sex? Why would he have to mess like this with people he cared about?! He didn't want any sex. He never wanted to want any sex. He just wanted to keep a friend, for fuck's sake! Boys, girls, all the same – they would leave afterwards. They weren't like Giacometti – shag and hug and stay friends. Yuri wouldn't want everybody's friend anyway. He wanted one for himself and only for himself, damn it! Sex would ruin it all. People his age never stayed together when the sex got involved. Older guys, like Victor and others, rarely could bear each other for any significant period of time. Yuri have seen Victor going through liaison after liaison with no apparent hurt – he just couldn't imagine himself taking it so lightly. If he was to go and have sex with some stranger, not important enough to keep around afterwards – well, that would do. It would be so easy and it would never cause any problems. But he never knew he should have done it while he was free and not involved elsewhere.

Now it was too late.

Not that Yuri would ever subject himself to such a mess. Victor went from affair to affair, and then it was suddenly Katsuki this, Katsuki that, forever and after and be my pork cutlet bowl. Given how Katsudon fell for Victor from the very beginning, they could very well hope for their disgusting love to last forever. But there was no guarantee, no matter how Yuri really wouldn't want to imagine any one of those two if something broke between them. No matter how disgusting and reckless Victor was, Yuri had to admit that Nikiforov was really, seriously invested in the fat pork that Katsuki was. Both of those lovebirds believed the other to be their one and only and very last love in this world.

It never lasted.

Yuri Plisetsky had it all now. The opportunity, the appetite, all bloody fucking eros of this world. For the first time in his life he got it all – and he got the right person. But he would never accept it to be just his first love. He wanted, needed it to be his last. He would never risk to just have some sex and loose it all forever. Why couldn't he just have it forever with no sex involved?!

Why did he have to hit damned shitty puberty just now?!

He wanted to cry like he never had before. Not even about his mother, nor about Canada. Why did it have to be this way? Why people couldn't just stick together? Yuri's mother...

Not this, not now.

People parted all the time. Lilia and Yakov split.

Lilia Baranovskaya inspected him with cold eyes. She didn't smash him on the spot for bringing up the divorce. Not yet.

"You're an idiot," she decided.

"Ahm?" He mumbled something, unsure what to say.

"You're and idiot, apparently. Just as Yasha were. So, you have all the chances to screw up just as magnificently as we did."

So, the divorce happened because Yakov was an idiot? But, he noticed, she did say "we screwed up".

"You have all the chances to divorce your wife. Or you might not divorce her at all, and suffer quarrels and silent hatred until your last day. Or you will live happily, attending to another birthing of your tenth spawn."

"Or I'll just became a blasted monk!", he cried. She squinted her eyes with growing impatience.

"Stop swearing this instant, Yuri Plisetsky. Gay ice-skating monk, that would indeed beat all Nikiforov's pranks." She didn't seem to entirely disapprove of the idea. "Yuri. There's no guarantee. Nobody can promise you that doing something - or not doing it at all - would assure your bond with another person. I can promise you would get bruised if you fall off the motorbike. With your level of training duties, I strongly advise you not to ride any idiotic motorbike. But there's no tell if you fall off or have a ride of your life." She lowered her chin, lost in thought. "I must admit I seriously cannot believe you might fall of that bike."

Well, that was… Reassuring? Terrifying? Whatever it was, it made Yuri furious again. She was supposed to tell him how to keep things under control, not to pry into his private life! And she definitely wasn't supposed to encourage him. The last thing he needed was even more boost. Every-bloody-body around just tried to encourage him or cheer him on. Screw them all! He had enough boost on his own. What he needed was some hint on how to stop anything from happening!

"Ah", she nodded, surprisingly content with his angry hiss. "Best way to dissuade the teenager: give him consent."

He chewed his lip, feeling offended. She made fun of him. He told her all his doubts and she was making jokes? Not fair. Not…

"Yuri."

"What?!", he snapped at her, still angry.

"Feelings…" She clenched her teeth, apparently uneasy with the topic. "Yuri, being with people is nothing like ice skating. In sports, you have a gift – or you don't. You work hard – and you get better, you fight, you win or not. When you fall in love, practice won't make you perfect. It would just make you experienced. And probably worn-out."

Oh? What happened to "go and have a ride"?

"I don't want to wear it out!", he practically screamed. "Never!"

She didn't call him an idiot again, nor a stupid teen hoping for his crush to last forever. Good, because it was not a crush. It just wasn't. He just couldn't have a damned crush. That would definitely ruin everything. All he wanted was to keep his friendship intact. Yuri Plisetsky had made his mind about this whole damned affair. He would do everything in his power to secure his friendship.

Sex would never make up for losing this.

"I'm very sorry, Yuri Nikolaievitch Plisetsky, but it's all about hardwork and pure luck. You can do all that's in your power to keep the disaster from happening. But if you're unlucky enough, one small misunderstanding can lead to ruination."

What Lilia had said, it seemed bitter and final and desolated. Yuri never wanted – what did she said? Ah, ruination. He would never allow this.

"You can make your decision and plan and keep working, but you can only hope it will be enough", she added.

Ah. Hope. Yuri bowed his head. Hope was for weaklings and dogs. He was a talented warrior. And a cat person. He knew nothing of hope. He only knew how to fight. And one couldn't just fight his best friend to keep him.

But one shouldn't shag him either.

Luck? Hope? What a shitty idea was that? If he was a lucky person, he would have normal life and parents who stayed with their child instead of disappearing. He would have someone who would tell him not to worry and give him some fucking manual about normal relations with other people. Fuck, if he was lucky, he wouldn't need a damned manual! He knew nothing of keeping people on his side. He only knew fighting and competing and not counting on any shitty luck or hope. But one day, he got to decide if he wanted to be friends. And never in his life Yuri Plisetsky had felt so very _wanted_. Whatever urges he might have and never admit it, it could never be worth that much. What was to be done? He was pants at hoping. For Yuri, it was never _hope_ that pushed him through. It was _need._ Now, when he knew what it was like, he _needed_ this "be friends" thing. He just had to keep it.

"What do you want, boy?"

"I want him to be my friend!"

Geez, that was worse than lame. That was pathetic. He bowed his head even lower, put his fingers together, almost broken by his own wretched idiocy.

He completely missed Lilia's smile – thin and reptilian and dangerously tender.

"My pride."

"What?" He shook hair off his ears to hear what she told. She didn't repeat whatever it was that she said. She clasped her fingers instead, just sitting with her forefingers aligned like Yuri was and he immediately felt better.

Still stupid, but better.

"If you're lucky, it will work itself out. If you're unlucky, it will rot in front of your eyes. But, Yuri. There's no magic. It's you – and this other person. Don't do things for sake of magic or some stupid idea of love. Whatever you do, do it for yourself or for that other person. But don't let some stupid idea of magic keep you from doing what you want. It's never any damned sparkling cloud to look after. Keep looking into the cloud and you can't see the person behind it anymore. Don't sit here considering what a beautiful thing friendship is. Think of your friend instead."

His beautiful friend… Oh, no. Yuri decided instantly it's not a best course for his thoughts. Lilia shrugged slightly.

"Things happen. People split. But if you rush… You may end up regretting your impatience for all your life."

Ah. He nodded, satisfied. So, no rush. Never. Lilia watched him in silence for a moment – somehow she seemed unsure what to say. Well, at least she would never tell him to go and have sex, or would she now?! Not Lilia of all people!

"Don't be so very afraid of losing someone." She squinted her eyes again. "One can do many stupid things out of fear of losing someone. Sometimes you're too afraid to lose other person. Sometimes… Sometimes you're too afraid to lose yourself for him. And you end up losing everything anyway."

She was so reassuring. Damned Lilia and her damned divorce issue.

"And what then?!", he screamed. Yesterday he was all alone in this world, now he couldn't even imagine returning to this loneliness. How could she stand it, day by day?

"You live", she informed him crisply. "You go on with your life. You get distance and clear head and time to relax. You work hard to regret nothing. You're fine by yourself. You always were."

And so he was. Yesterday. Not today.

"I lived", Lilia admitted. "I was great. I'm always great. Am I not?"

She was great and he loved her, damn it. He'll never tell her of course. He pretended to stick his tongue on her and she pretended not to notice it.

"So one day I'm great and I'm queen of the day, just as I always am. And the other day he suddenly stands on my doorstep with his stupid hat and his idiot children for me to raise and asks for a glass to keep his blasted denture in."

She looked him straight into eye – and he felt so spoiled with her trust, damn it all, he wouldn't cry, he just wouldn't.

"What do you want?"

"I want forever", he admitted. "I don't want any distance or time to relax!"

"Attack", she advised calmly. "Involve him. Whatever you do, don't exclude him. Invite him in."

Eh? Right now Yuri felt very sixteen sitting next to someone being very sixty. What was she talking about? Was she telling him to just… Do _that_? Suddenly he felt disappointed. It would be so easy – and he never believed in doing things the easy way. How could Lilia say such a thing?! There was some part of him, very deep and slippery, that indeed wanted this particular advice and all it needed to attack was this last assurance. But he hated so much to do as he was told! Lillia was an exception to this prideful rebellion of his, or at least until now she was. Until now he would just listen to her, keep his mouth open for tooth-checks and stretch his body any way she suggested. But she was not supposed to just let him go all loose! He wanted his friendship to be better and longer and more important than just some sneaking a feel. Stupid, stupid Lilia and her stupid, disappointing…

"Augh!"  
He jumped, shocked, when she slapped his hand again.

"Don't you dare to insult me, Yuri Plisetsky."

"Yessss ma'am…", he murmured, inwardly cursing her fucking mind-reading ability.

"To invite doesn't necessary mean "to devour instantly", she reminded him acidly. "Don't you ever think I approve of such indiscipline. Now understand me: whatever relationship we are talking about, you both have equal rights in that. Don't go away alone, all sulking and unsure. Sulk on his lap, if you have to."

Somehow she didn't make it sound like a reproach for his sulking into hers. God bless that cursed woman.

"I'm not telling him!", he vowed stubbornly. She shrugged.

'Ah, yes. Talking is for old people. You children prefer showing off instead, now don't you?"

Now he shrugged. Everything would be better than speaking of those embarrassing ideas. He had decide already: nothing would happen, nothing would change. Simple and easy. Why would he ever have to talk about it?

"Don't push him away," Lilia warned him again. "Don't make it your own business. Go and do something to show him how much you care."

To show how much Yuri cared… That would take blowing up the entire skating rink at his exhibition skate. What was he to do? Should he dance hopping and singing of spring and kisses like idiot Victor for his idiot Katsudon? But he didn't wanted what Victor had, not now. Show off, but how? Jump in his underwear in front of all audience? Yuri would do that and more for his friend, but it led to things he didn't actually want to do it _with_ his friend. Not yet. Showing off his underwear would be a straightforward invitation, would it not?

"In my days, it was easier", Lilia noted. "We never wandered around exposing all body parts like cheap-sale sausages. In my youth showing off meant quite a lot. Too bad you children have lost all the joy of having erogenous zones besides your genitals."

Yuri went crimson in a flash at that. But Lilia got pink streaks on her cheekbones, too. For a second they both studied attentively opposite corners of the corridor.

"I don't want to go… erogenous…", Yuri murmured, barely audible.

"In my day, it was easier", Lilia repeated again. "Outside of my training flock, I would expose my feet and ankle to show the interest, then I would kick the guy with the same feet to mark the distance. If he was good enough, he respected my boundaries."

Yuri wanted his boundaries to be respected. And he wanted no boundaries within his friendship. And kicking sounded really good, he felt like kicking something. But the person who Yuri would show his assets to was not a proper kicking target. Actually, showing off his interest sounded terrible. Yuri didn't want it to be revealed. He wasn't ready for consequences – or, rather, he didn't wanted any consequences. How does one show off his interest with no consequences? How could one be sure that the right guy would respect him afterwards?

"You're an ice skater", Lilia stated. "Make a use of it."

Mixing personal emotions into the performance sounded so… Victor-ish… So Georgish… So JJ-ish… Shit. It was something everybody around did. Why not do it?

"That's so girly and lame."

"I'm a girl", she reminded him wryly. "If you need manly advice, you…"

He silenced her rising his finger – she furrowed her brow as if offended, but otherwise did nothing to interrupt Yuri's meditation. He tried hard to remember – there was something Katsuki said once, about eros and seducing and some idiotic skating strategy Minako trained him for. Girly advices apparently worked quite well for ice skaters.

Let's take girly advice.

"How do I show him without making him think I'm proposing something?"

"Without actually talking about it?" Lilia rolled her eyes. "You would be the first to discover the way. From all I know about men, they are perfectly able to take anything for invitation."

"No talking!", he begged.

"Oh, well." She shrugged. "Flirt a bit? Show him a bit of what you got under that agape of yours. And then step back and invite him for a hot chocolate like a good boy would do. Don't overdo."

"When it's overdoing?"

"And how am I supposed to know this?! Go ask your slut friends!"

Well, his one and only friend was definitely not any slut.

"Ask him anyway", Lilia advised. "It's his business, too, isn't it?"

Will she ever stop reading his mind? Yuri looked into her eyes. Well, maybe she won't stop. Maybe some things could be forever.

*/*/*

In the end, he actually asked for advice and advice was given. Music was chosen for him, assistance was offered, teeth were in use. Yuri knew Lilia would kill him for showing off in public in anything more underwear-like than a sleeveless top. Which also happened to be almost backless, actually. But Yuri was sure Lilia would approved the gloves. So – he went on with the gloves. Gloves were checked, tasted and thoroughly approved. Yuri radiated excitement and satisfaction and after all the rocket he was escorted to his bedroom. There he called his cat to say goodbyes with him, on the threshold of his hotel apartment. They said their goodbyes and the day was over.

The next day they shared awful sugary churros in the back street. And they laughed and still were friends. There was a motorbike ride and awful amount of respecting boundaries, for which Yuri decided a hug was in order before he run away for training.

Lilia never mentioned the gloves. It felt so great to have her approval.

"Nice, bad boy!" Apparently, Giacometti approved his performance too. "What's gonna be next? Stockings? I could lend you some!"

Yuri ignored him and wandered off with his head high. He didn't need any advice from any old shag-and-hug slut. He got his own respectful friend for that, after all.

The end

(but it never ends)

(some things can be forever)


End file.
